


The Wine He Drinks

by RainKat



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 04:52:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainKat/pseuds/RainKat
Summary: After both having their bodies back, Lucio and the apprentice fall into each other's arms.





	The Wine He Drinks

Your heart pulses reminding you of its heavy burden, thrumming with panic, as you race through the elegant palace corridors. A blur of movement in the dead of night. I need to find him, just any sign of him. You peal up the staircase where you first met way back during your first night in the palace. Back then he was just the shadow who spoke to you in dreams. If all worked out, he should be more now.

The distinctive sound of heels rapping on marble guides you to his room. You open the door turning to face the sound, and there he is, shimmering resplendent like the breaking dawn, a beacon to your heart signaling the waters of hope to finally begin to pool. “He is right there. This is real. Isn’t it?”

You both rush forward, as if drawn to each other, stopping short of crashing into one another. His steel eyes pierce you, reflecting the state of your very soul. They are raw, unbelieving, hopeful, tired, excited - just like you. There’s a reverent fragility to his regard, like he worries the wind could steal you at any moment.

 

He reaches for you, trembling. His fingers brush your cheek with a light disbelieving touch. That touch writes his story in your skin - the calluses tell of a master swordsman, the softness of his recent years as a noble, the firmness speaks of a determined man, and the desperate firm pressure he applies whispers tales of a man starved of affection, struggling to hold himself back. The subtle tremor of his hand betrays his hidden fear of being rejected. This touch, full of his silent pleas for you to stay, lays him bare before you, and puts his heart in your hands. 

He slides his good hand along your face and thumbs across your lips. A gentle nip at his finger brings a smug grin to his face that leaves you swirling. He pulls your hand up to his lips, looking you in the eyes. Feel me. He begs without a word. He slips his other arm carefully behind you, making sure you are comfortable and closes the gap between you. Fierce passion and tender feelings pass unspoken between you, a silent consent. He places a light kiss, just to make sure you’re real, that you want him, that you choose to be here, he places another and another. He kisses you again, and again, desperate for this, he’s hungry and his kisses grow more passionate and perfect in every iteration.

Your hand cupping his face is wet with his tears.

Nothing is said. There are no words. There is no space for them between kisses. You reach for his belt and begin to undo it. He pauses to huff with impatience before finishing it himself. You help him pull off his shirt. Kiss. His gloves. Kiss. His pants. Kiss… Kiss…. Nip. Impressively he manages to do most of it with one arm, never taking the one that can feel you beneath him off of you.

His good hand roams up your sides and down your back. He eyes you hungrily and waits for you to begin removing your top before helping. More of his impatient huffing comes with every lace and button.

Your nakedness brings the first word spoken out loud between you, a growling and satisfied whisper: “Perfection.” His eyes dance hungrily, taking you in fully before pulling you back into his carnal embrace. He directs you towards furs warming in front of the fireplace.

His kisses are devouring. You are the hare at his buffet, the wine he drinks, the things he needs to live; and you are delicious.

And he tells you so, as he kisses down your body, a trail of fire that burns his passion into your skin.

His kisses trace an image of you, from your lips, down your neck, down your chest, interspersed with licks and nips in between.

“Lucio - ” your voice, heavy with desire, is cut off by his growling moan as soon as you say his name. He grins devilishly, thoroughly pleased, and he falls into your eyes as you watch him work his way down. His gaze is hot as his kisses tease of things to follow, his good hand roaming everywhere except where you want it to go, all while bracing himself effortlessly with the other.

He wants you to beg, and for once? You have no problem doing so.

“Lucio, love, please, there!” His kisses stop, his voice is smug, but that doesn’t mask his surprise as much as he thinks it does. “I was expecting begging, not a confession…”

Your heart skips a beat and you glance away slightly mortified. Shit, I messed up

He pulls himself lower, and you’re afraid he’ll pull away…

“…Mmm, and I didn’t get you anything? I’ll find some way of spoiling you back… Even if it takes me eternity to do it.” Hot breath whispers promises on your thighs. You quiver at their command, helpless once again to his spell.

You look at him enraptured, lost for words, thirsting for him, for his promises, for his endless nights and days at your side.

“Well… I love you too.” You swear you just heard him mumble it as he dips into you, licking the length of you for the first time, delivering a shock of hot liquid pleasure that arches your back. He laughs into you before his tongue dances skillfully, rising you into a comfortable bliss.

You surge, back raising from the ground as he - a starving man, finally coming home - lays into you - his water in the desert. You feel the desperation, the absolute ecstasy with which he devours you. He moans, red blushing touching his ears.

He gives you his finger and you open your mouth, wetting it for him. He kisses you in thanks, and you taste a hint of yourself on his lips before he returns to his stage to begin performing his favorite dance. Gently, he teases his finger around your opening, wrapping his tongue around you as he does, flitting. He pours something on you, and in you - oil it seems - and gently pushes at you with his finger, which slips in with ease. You feel him explore you, trying to memorize you as if worried this might just be a dream. He touches himself, and moans out your name into you.

You tighten around him, digging your hands into his hair and pulling him closer. Lucio licks skillfully while finding your hidden places, the motions and movements you enjoy. He chuckles against you and you find bliss in the sexy familiar music of his laugh. Somehow, in this moment of discordant noise, music is made, and it’s beautiful.

He adds another finger, licking it first, and starts back in, working you again. Something shifts as you clamp on his fingers and he rails into you relentlessly, taking your pleasure as if it were his own. As tides of bliss roll in waves, for a moment you feel almost as if you were experiencing this in the third person, floating outside of yourself again, and white dances across the edges of your vision.

Lucio laughs as you clamp down hard around him again, threatening to explode. You flow pleasure and ooze bliss.

“Well?” he asks, “Seems you’re ready for me, snack cake.”

He pauses waiting for an affirmation before he continues. The cold air brought with his sudden absence is maddening. You need him back. Now.

You nod, eager for him, you feel his cock press gently against your thigh as he kisses you again. There is more than a hint of you on his lips now.

“Tell me, what do you want?”

“You. Now, today, tomorrow. Always.”

“That’s sweet, but I meant now in particular. What do you want me to do?”

He is waiting for you to say it.

“I want your cock. Happy?”

“That isn’t a very nice way to ask for such a fine gift…” He says feigning hurt, his sneer, wet with you, is too much. It’s both aggravating and something you want to see every morning and night, a sun burning but energizing. That sneer misted with you gives you life. 

“Gods… You, your cock… Please Lucio… I want you inside me. I need it. I need you!” your breathy and desperate whining only widens his grin.

His eyes light with pride and, filled with satisfaction, he lays your reward upon your lips in the form of a kiss.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” His voice is teasing and musical as his lips brush along yours, breath heavy with the perfume of sex.

He makes a show of pouring the oil on his cock, his grin slight but mesmerizing as he works himself. His cock shimmers like a velvetine wand wrapped in fine silk, enchanting you with spells. Spells of binding, spells of love, a spell of raw yearning. Your whole body tightens in anticipation, bodily heat soaring like there is a fire roaring to life within you.

Eyes hooded with desire Lucio begins teasing you lightly rubbing it along you toying with your sanity. When he guides himself into you, it slides in easily, fitting like it’s made to be there. You are both caught off guard at just how good it feels. Supple and firm, tight and unrelenting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect!” He bites out in awe, eyes closed.

He starts slow, for himself as well as you. He may be the patron of sex and debauchery, but it’s been a while since he’s had a body, and he’s never quite been this lost in another person before. 

He slows, pacing himself, feeling it out, kissing you thoroughly and deeply. Each thrust ensnares you, pulling you further from reason and deeper into euphoria.

He’s beautiful; an artist at work, concentrating on his masterpiece, like he has one chance to tell you he loves you, and he’s doing it like this.

Your hand finds his face, his gaze interlocks with yours “Lucio, I love you.”

He stops.

Closing his eyes, he speaks barely above a whisper. “…You do? Really?… Nobody has ever…”

“Is now a bad time?” You brush some hair from his eyes.

“Please…” He begs eyes glittering, “If you mean it, say it again.”

“I. love. You. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He kisses you deeply eyes misty with emotion. “Like that! Don't… Don’t stop!”

He pumps in rhythm with your words, and you try, you try to keep telling him you love him, but you lose the ability to form words rather quickly as his pace quickens.

You’re left grabbing his shoulders, wrapping your legs around him for dear life, and he cradles you against him with his good arm, pumping into you faster and faster a pounding music to your passionate dance.

He’s warm, impossibly hard, and relentless. There’s no retreat, no holding back. He takes what he wants and he wants you… And by the Gods is he taking you.

Your cries sound distant, like they could be from another person. It actually surprises you when you realize what they are.

Your nails dig into him, and his breath catches.

He looks into your eyes. You figure you look like a crying mess of pleasure.

“Beautiful, I’m close. Outside or in?”

"In.” You gasp out barely able to recover the breath.

“Gods, I love you.”

He pounds again in earnest, pulling your hips up to meet him gently, you grind down with pleasure, desperate to be filled.

His shoulders stiffen and he goes rigid with pleasure as he thrusts himself into you so deeply there’s no room left and he shudders as he gilds the insides of you with golden warmth.

He collapses onto you and you brush your hands through his hair.

“I did mean it.” He says it dreamily as he rubs your shoulders. “I’m not sure I know what it is, love, but if it means I treasure you, and never want to part with you, that I feel I need you with every fiber of my being… Well, I think I must love you. What else could this feeling be?”

“That’s love, Lucio. And I feel that for you too.”

This kiss is deep and pure, an act of raw love. It speaks promises that this won’t be the last time tonight you put that love in motion.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and critique always welcome.


End file.
